If honesty is a vulnerable practise that helps us lead the life we want, what do we need to cultivate that practise?
‘It’s my fault, I made a mistake, I apologise.’
These were the words of Christophe Ridley when Sale played Saracens in the Gallagher Premiership. In getting it wrong Sale didn’t score and as a result didn’t get a bonus point that could determine if they make the league play-offs and if they get a home semi-final. In a sporting sense it was a significant mistake. (See from 4.41 in the video below, or if you’re a rugby fan watch the whole thing for some great tries).
More significant was that Ridley was able to own that fact.
To do so required honesty and that required courage to be vulnerable, to accept that mistake without knowing the outcome for owning that mistake.
And in the context of a profession as a referee where good performance and ‘getting it right’ go hand in hand, it makes that honesty more significant because of what is at stake.
It could be argued that in that example, other than for the sake of being honest (and the generally accepted virtue of being honest) there is no immediate benefit to it. However, what we don’t know is how the practice of honesty in that case enables honesty to show up elsewhere where it can be incredibly important.
In very significant contrast, in the early 10th century the Tang dynasty collapsed. In The Earth Transformed historian Peter Frankopan describes this collapse as the product of rebellions resulting from the effects of successive years of drought. For Frankopan the impact of these droughts was felt because their effects were not truthfully reported by local governors to central authority so action that could have averted their impact wasn’t taken.
In short, an absence of honesty and the courage to take responsibility for things not going well was significant.
So what do we really mean when we talking about ‘honesty’?
When we think of honesty we think of representing the whole picture as clearly as possible, warts and all, regardless of what the implications are. That isn’t to endorse criticism veiled as being ‘honest’ because that really isn’t the real truth. Now ‘truth’ feels like a big word and it is fair to assume that it is impossible for any of us to know absolute truth but honesty is about being as realistic with what is as possible.
It can be easy to assume then that honesty means focusing on the bad stuff or less good bits of the situation we don’t want to confront. While that can be the case it can also be about not accurately representing the good stuff too. In Time to Think, Nancy Kline references Carol Painter’s idea of Negative Norm Reality Theory, which highlights how society often claims that the accurate picture of reality is a more negative one than is usually the case. The truer reflection is often far more positive. This is important as Kline argues that to be at its best the mind requires the fullest, most accurate picture of reality to do so.
The reality is, that without the full picture, without being open to the fuller, more honest assessment, we’re in a worse position than if we confront the situation face on.
So when faced with a challenge or when we’re feeling stuck we can either hide behind false truths or seek to take ownership of a clearer, fuller, and often more positive picture. In doing so what we really want and how we get there is clearer than before.
What would the impact be to know and act on the fullest picture of reality you can create? What personal dynasty could rise or fall from that reality?
And, what gets in the way of honesty? Why can it feel so difficult?
What do we need to practise honesty?
Brene Brown describes vulnerability as the ‘willingness to show up and be seen with no guarantee of the outcome’. In this way being honest, is a vulnerable act, it is confronting reality, what is, without a guarantee of the outcome as was the case in Ridley’s refereeing.
There is lots written and spoken about the value and difficulty of being vulnerable, by its nature it is a difficult thing. In knowing this we can also recognise that to be honest is therefore equally difficult and in doing so consider what do we need to be honest, to be vulnerable?
In knowing that something is difficult, how does that change our approach?
Honesty often means uncertainty. For example: ‘I got it wrong and I don’t know what that will mean.’
So to embrace honesty is to lean into uncertainty more. If uncertainty is not knowing how something will go, what do we need to act in and face that uncertainty?
Firstly, we can practice in lower stakes situations. Where can we start building the muscle of honesty so that it can show up in ‘bigger’ situations? It could be weekly reflections, it could be being honest about each meal we cooked, it could be sharing how things are really going with a close friend and vice versa.
As well as the doing it, we can also better prepare ourselves for the possible results of doing it. For example, honesty can create the discomfort of knowing something isn’t how we want it to be. The discomfort could be recognising we don’t know something and needing to ask for help or it could be acknowledging things are not where we want nor need them to be. What do we need to support us in that discomfort? Who can help us through it?
If the unknown was a dark cave that may hold monsters, how would we prepare ourselves? What or who would we bring with us? What are the strengths we can remind ourselves of so when we walk into the cave we can remember to draw upon them.
And how can we acknowledge honesty in ourselves and others regardless of the outcome?
Let’s be honest about honesty
To be honest is to be vulnerable, to be vulnerable is to accept we are good enough, we are worthy as we are. To be honest is to remind us we are worthy regardless of what really is the case.
If we go back to Negative Norm reality theory, and Nancy Kline ultimately with a clearer picture of reality we can choose a better plan of action, one more likely to succeed and create what we want.
What do we know now that we may be ignoring but if we are really honest will allow us to get closer to what we really want?
So it could be that while honesty is the best policy, it doesn’t always feel like it, and in knowing that what can we do to cultivate a practise of honesty to serve us when it is most needed?
If we know we are worthy, what else is true that we can face?
In being honest, in acknowledging our worthiness, what can we create?
References
Brene Brown, Rising Strong
Nancy Kline, Time to Think
Peter Frankopan, The Earth Transformed
